Second Chances
by BlurglesmurfKlaine
Summary: Kurt and Blaine practically grew up together and were best childhood friends. Until one day, a horrible car accident leaves Blaine dead and Kurt with 8 years of therapy. One day, Mr. Shue announces a new member to the club... Blaine Anderson. Kurt and Blaine soon find that they get a second chance at friendship, and maybe something more...
1. Prologue

Summary: Kurt and Blaine practically grew up together and were best childhood friends. Until one day, a horrible car accident leaves Blaine dead and Kurt with 8 years of therapy. One day, Mr. Shue announces a new member to the club... Blaine Anderson. Kurt and Blaine soon find that they get a second chance at friendship, and maybe something more...

So I wrote this and its actually not that great but I think chapter one is better

*** *** ***

Prologue  
***8 Years Ago***

Blaine and Kurt sat in the backseat of the Anderson's car, practically bouncing around in excitement. "I'm gonna go see the lions and the tigers and the bears!" Blaine stated.

"Oh, my!" Joked his mom.

"I'm mostly excited for the alligators!" Kurt proclaimed.

"Feeling bit adventurous today, are we, Kurt?" Asked Blaine's dad, chuckle in his voice.

"Oui, très!" (Yes, very!) Kurt exclaimed in fluent French. Before she passed away the year before, his mom had taken every opportunity she had to teach Kurt French, which she knew quite well, and now, he did too. He'd been speaking more and more in it since her death.

Blaine stuck his tongue out at him. "Show off. I can do that, too!"

"Only cause I taught you!" He replied. Kurt laughed. "And you can only say hello, and goodbye!"

"bonjour, au revoir," (Hello, goodbye) Blaine said in not so fluent French. Despite all the teasing, the boys had picked up a habit of using those two words when greeting and leaving each other, instead of plain old English.

"It's a good thing you two have your little hello and goodbyes," Mrs. Anderson started. "It's like your own little secret language, so if your bodies ever get taken over by aliens or something, you'll know which is fake."

Before Kurt could even open his mouth to respond, his entire weight was being thrashed around as an 18 wheeler came and slammed into the side opposite his seat and sent their car rolling. He felt his head being yanked around, and slam against the car a few times, knocking him out before the car finally rolled to a stop. Upside down.

The tears spilled from the frightened nine year old's eyes as he woke up, not knowing how long he'd been knocked out, and cried out for help. "Help!" He sobbed. He turned his head to look at Mrs. Anderson, who's neck was twisted at an awkward angle and laid there motionless. Her husband wasn't moving either, and had blood dripping all down his face. He turned to face his best friend. "Blaine," he pleaded. "Blaine wake up!"

The darker haired boy's eyes fluttered open and he cried out in agony, clutching his chest. "Kurt," he choked, voice weak and raspy. "It hurts to breathe." When he removed his hands, it was revealed that a piece of shrapnel had lodged itself in Blaine's lungs, and he had multiple lesions in his stomach as well as many cuts and scrapes all over his body, even some glass in his arms.

The sound of sirens wailing was coming closer and closer, louder and louder. "Blaine please, please, please stay awake," he begged hysterically. "Stay awake with me until help comes please, I'm so scared." He sobbed, and a searing pain shot through his legs.

"I'll try but, Kurtie, it hurts so much," Blaine breathed, face getting paler and paler as he lost more and more blood.

Kurt reached out for Blaine's blood soaked hand. "Don't leave me!" The sound of crunching and metal scraping against metal filled the car. "Hang on! They're almost here, just hold on, please!"

"I can't... Feel..." He barely managed. "I'm sorry, I just... I'm so sleepy... Kurt, I'm—" he took a sharp, painful breath in, and tried forcing a smile but it came out more of a grimace from the pain. "Au... rev—" before Blaine could finish his thought, he took two breaths before his eyes fluttered closed and didn't open up again.

Kurt felt Blaine's hand go limp, but still held on. "Blaine..? Blaine. Blaine!" He shouted. "Wake up, help!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "Please help!"

Finally, the firemen got the door to open and unbuckled Kurt, but when they tried to take him out, he refused. "No you have to help him, please! Save them!" He begged. The fireman pulled Kurt out of Blaine's loose grasp and helped him into an ambulance, but not before he saw the same man check all three of the Andersons for pulses, look back, and sadly shake his head.

"No pulses from any of them."

Kurt's stomach dropped. He'd seen enough cop shows to know what that meant... "No... No!" He shouted. "You're lying! Why are you lying!" His voice cracked and his face crumpled as tears spilled from his eyes. "You have to save them..."

The fireman that had carried him out said. "I'm taking this kid to a medic, I think he's got a broken leg."

Kurt fought them every second they put him on the gurney, because they had to go back for them. They had to.

This couldn't be happening.

***

Kurt was sitting in the hospital bed with a cast on his leg, waiting for his dad to come when a little girl with brown skin and dark hair about his age came up towards him. "Heard you were in an accident." She stated. When Kurt stared right through her without replying, she kept going. "I know cause my dad's the fireman who took you out of the car."

Kurt turned towards her and bitterly said. "Well, he didn't save the rest of us."

"That's because it was too late," she answered sadly. "It happens a lot..." She looked down at her feet.

"Shut up!" Kurt snapped. "It wasn't too late! He could've saved them, but they just... Left them there..." His voice shook and his whole body trembled.

She took his hand and looked up at him with knowing eyes. "I'm sorry..." She said simply.

"I-It's ok," Kurt stuttered, looking down. He looked up at the girl. "Thanks..." He mumbled.

She nodded. "No problem... I have to go now, my day's on patrol again... I'm Santana, by the way. If you want me to come back I can."

Kurt tried to force a smile, but the result was still sort of a grimace.. "That'd be nice."

***

It was two weeks after the accident and Kurt sat in Dr. Miller's office, still refusing to talk about it. The questions started off ok—How was your day? What do you like to do? Whats your favorite color?—but if they ever drifted towards cars or Blaine, Kurt would either shift the direction of the conversation, or stop responding.

Kurt didn't want to talk about what had happened. He didn't want to talk about the car or what he saw it what he said it anything. He just wanted to pretend like that day never happened. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that there even was an accident.

Because that meant admitting Blaine was really gone.

*** *** ***

A/N: So the prologue was super short (and shitty sorry) but that is why I posted the first chapter up at the same time! :) also this is super depressing who let me write in the first place?


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
***8 Years Later***

Kurt woke up and swung his legs around his bed, letting them dangle for a bit before checking his clock. 12. He still had an hour and half until his appointment, but he still started getting ready. Stretching his arms above his head, he got up and headed towards the bathroom, brushing his teeth, combing his hair, the usual business.

But things didn't start getting weird until he headed downstairs and saw his dad on the recliner, still in his pajamas. Kurt's eyes widened in surprise. "Dad!" He scolded. "What are you doing still in your pajamas?"

Burt looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. "It's Sunday, the shop is closed."

"Uh, yeah, but you've still gotta take me to Dr. Miller's!" He pointed out.

His dad cocked his head to the side. "Who's Dr. Miller?"

Kurt's jaw dropped. "What do you mean who's Dr. Miller? I've been seeing him for 8 years!"

Burt chuckled. "I think you were a little young to be dating a doctor when you were nine," he joked. Kurt's jaw practically hit the floor, heart clenching at his dad's cruel joke. How could his dad be messing around about this. Of all things?

He huffed. "You know what? I'm just gonna walk." He said angrily, and headed out the door, leaving his father with a face twisted in confusion.

"Must be a teenager thing," he shrugged.

***

Kurt got to the office and smiled at Nancy, the receptionist, and she smiled politely back as he tried to walk right into the room like he had for the past 8 years.

But this time, she stopped him and said, "All new patients have to fill out a form."

Kurt immediately backtracked. "I'm not new patient." He explained hastily and with confusion. "I have an appointment."

"Oh! Sorry, then! Didn't recognize you." She apologized.

"What are you talking about, Nancy, you've known me for years." He questioned. She had a blank look on her face. "I went to your daughter's twelfth birthday party!"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't recall. Under what name was your appointment, maybe that will jog my memory."

"Hummel," he answered immediately. "Kurt Hummel."

She hummed curiously as she searched through the files on her clipboard. "I'm sorry," she finally answered. "But there's no record of any appointments under that name... Past or present."

Kurt took a step back, shaking his head. "No," he murmured. "That's impossible!" He shook his head vigorously. "This can't be happening!"

Nancy furrowed her eyebrows. "Maybe a therapist isn't what you need, but perhaps a psych—"

Kurt cut her off, pointing a stern finger at her. "I am not crazy! I have been coming here half my life!" He backed off, closed his eyes and swallowed in an attempt to try and keep his cool. "I was in a car accident when I was nine, I watched my best friend die..." He opened his eyes before the haunting images could flood his memory. "I am a lot of things... But I'm not insane."

And with that he headed out the door, making his way for his house in search of someone who would remember.

***

As soon as Kurt got home he rushed up to Finn's room and practically burst into his room. "Please tell me you remember," he begged.

"You gotta be more specific than that, bro." Finn laughed.

"Blaine. The Anderson family minus Cooper. Eight years ago." He puffed out.

Finn's face suggested that for all he knew, the jumble of words coming out of Kurt's mouth were part if the Da Vinci code. "Sorry," he shrugged. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Kurt deflated defeatedly. Sighing, he sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. "I can't... I'm losing my mind." He whimpered. By this point, Finn looked extremely concerned and even a bit frightened. "How can nobody remember?" He asked himself, lifting his head up, revealing red and puffy eyes. Finn opened his mouth to try and comfort his step brother when the other boy suddenly stood up and yelled. "Santana!" headed out the door, pulling out his phone and calling up his Latina friend.

The door slammed shut and Finn was left lying in his bed in confusion. "Um... Ok, then..."

***

Kurt watched as one of his best friends walked through the doors of the Lima Bean, ordered her usual coffee and took a seat next to him. "So what's this all about, Porcelain?"

"I need you to be serious for a second, San." Kurt looked her right in the eye, practically holding his breath in anticipation. "Do you remember... My accident?"

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What kind of question is that, Kurt?" His stomach dropped until she continued. "Of course I remember, I was there."

He exhaled, feeling relieved to finally have the validation that he was not insane. "Oh thank god." He mumbled.

"What's going on?" She asked suspiciously.

Kurt just shook his head. "No one else remembers, San."

"What do you mean?" She questioned.

He sighed and shrugged. "No one remembers the accident... And I don't know why."

"Maybe they're just messing with you?" She offered.

"The therapy office, too?" He asked condescendingly, cocking his head to the right just slightly.

Her face dropped. "Oh..."

"Yeah..." He rubbed his temples, head hurting from trying to think up explanations for this craziness. "Maybe I'm dreaming?" He contemplated.

Santana twisted her mouth and shook her head. "Sorry, but I'm as real as you are."

"That's exactly something someone in a dream would say." She sighed, not really knowing what to do or say to comfort him. "You know what," he started up again. "Maybe it is just a joke—a cruel one... But I think I'm just gonna go home and rest, get my head together, because for all we know I could be having a mental breakdown..."

"Trust me," she reassured. "You're not."

He picked up his bag and got up to leave, waving at her. "See you tomorrow," he said.

She smiled. "Later, Hummel."

***

The next day, Santana took her seat next to a defeated looking Kurt in the choir room. "Still no luck?" She asked. He shook his head sadly. "Hey," she started, squaring his boulders to face her. "We will figure this out, I promise you."

Before she could go any further, Mr. Shue walked in and started with his daily announcements. "First off," he began. "I'd like you all to give a warm welcome to the newest member of the New Directions... Blaine Anderson!"

Kurt's stomach dropped about a billion stories when he heard that familiar name, and Santana looked over at him with concern. This has to be a dream, He tried to convince himself. But the second a boy with lightly tanned skin, dark, curly, gelled back hair, and hazel eyes walked in, he knew it was all too real.

He stood up from his chair and faced the glee club. "I don't know what you all are trying to pull," he shouted, voice trembling. "But its not funny!" He looked at them accusingly. "How could all do this to me?"

"Uh, dude, what are you talking about?" Puck asked.

"Just stop it!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. "You guys are taking this stupid joke, or whatever the fuck this is way too far! Don't you get that!?"

"Hey, calm down," Mr. Shue tried.

"No!" He let out a shaky breath, eyes starting water up. "Please just stop this," he begged. And with that, he ran off towards the door, pushing past his instructor and the boy in his hysterical fit.

***

Not long after Kurt ran out the room, the new kid came after him and found him hugging his knees against a locker. "Are you ok?" He asked.

Kurt's head popped up, revealing blue eyes, red and puffy from crying. "Look," he started. "You're probably confused, unless my friends are actually asshats and told you everything to play a seriously messed up prank on me. But, honestly, I do not care. I really need you to stay away from me, please... I don't need you to understand it, but I need to to try and respect that because if you didn't, I probably couldn't cope."

The boy looked down sadly and shuffled his feet, mumbling, "Nice to meet you, Kurt." softly as he sulked back into the choir room.

He slowly lifted his head, eyebrows furrowed in thought as the boy walked away and realized _I never told him my name..._


	3. Chapter 2

{2} Second Chances

A/N:  
PART DEUX HERE WE GO

so i realized i havent been putting breaks between the scenes because this stupid website deleted them ugh okay im startin now sorry for the confusion

* * *

The day after the new kid showed up, Kurt practically begged his dad to stay home, faking a fever and an upset stomach, not even getting out of bed.

Burt raised an eyebrow. "I'm dumb, Kurt, but I'm not stupid."

Kurt whined and pulled the covers tighter over his body. "Please, dad?" He moaned. "It's just one day... I'm just going through some personal stuff and I need time to get my head together."

Burt sat down on the edge of the bed. "What is it? Are those football guys picking on you again? You can tell me anything, you know."

Kurt sighed. His dad cared about him so much, but he knew he needed to deal with this debacle himself. "No, I can't..." I know, I tried. "You wouldn't understand..."

Burt's face fell. "Is it like... About a guy?"

"... Um," Kurt started. "I guess you could say that..."

Burt got up, ready to leave most likely because he wasn't ready to deal with the whole topic about his son dating. "Alright, then." He stated. "I will leave you with your thoughts and good luck with that... Thing... About the guy..." Kurt stifled a laugh. "I'll be in the shop, if you need anything just give me a ring. Hope you "feel better"." He used air quotes for emphasis, and with that he walked out, leaving Kurt alone.

As soon as his dad had left, Kurt hopped out of bed and towards his dresser where he kept his photo album. He opened it up to the first page which consisted of two of his favorite pictures. The first was of him as a baby, cradled in his mother's arms while his dad smiled radiantly down on him, like he had the whole sun, moon and stars bundled right in front of him. The next was of him and Blaine at Lake Eerie when they were 8 years old, the summer Kurt's mom died. They were running out of the water in their swimming trunks, Kurt chasing Blaine with a bucket of water. Once his dad had told him, "I remember that day. I saw you laughing and I had to take a picture. It was the first time I'd seen you really smile since your mom died."

He stared at that photo, eyes landscaping every inch of Blaine, and he couldn't help but think that the resemblance to the new kid from yesterday was rather uncanny. Same dark hair, same olive skin, but the scariest part were the eyes. People say eyes are the window to the soul, and if that was true, Kurt would've sworn on his life that he'd looked through those hazel windows before.

Kurt felt his eyes water and a lump in his throat. No. Blaine was gone, and now everyone was starting to forget him. How long until he started to forget about him, too? How long until he forgot about his mom? Kurt shook his head and pressed the photos close to his chest, hugging them like he would the actual people in them. "No," he whispered forcefully, blinking the tears out from his eyes.

He carefully placed the book back on the shelf, as if the pictures would fade away if he was too careless. He'd never let them go, no matter what, he'd never forget them.

Never.

* * *

The next day at school, when all his friends asked where he was the previous day, he lied and said he just needed a break and spent the day in his pajamas eating junk food and watching Miami Vice on Netflix instead of curled up in bed and going through his photo album over and over again, crying his eyes out.

He almost got away with it until lunchtime when he sat down and Santana found him. She held her tray, weight shifted on one hip, mouth in a pout. "You hate Miami Vice." He looked up from his plate and glared at her. "Besides, it's not even on Netflix, I checked."

"What are you, a cop?" He asked sarcastically.

"No," she replied, taking a seat next to him. "Just a concerned friend." Kurt rolled his eyes. "That new kid coming here is really screwing with you, isn't it?" She asked.

Kurt swallowed the food in his mouth and put his fork down. "Jesus, San, did you have to bring him up?" He whimpered.

"Yeah, I did." She replied harshly. "What were you gonna do, pretend he doesn't exist?"

"I could've damn well tried!"

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment until Santana spoke up. "You have to admit," she started. "From what I've seen in pictures, he does sort of look like—"

"Don't!" Yelled Kurt. "Please, San." He held up a hand and looked away. "You think I haven't thought about that? Just, don't..."

She shrugged. "All I'm saying is that stranger things have happened." And with that she got up to go throw her tray, leaving Kurt alone with his thoughts.

He shook his head. "Not to me," he mumbled. After seventeen years of horrid luck, what would compel him to think it would start changing now?

* * *

After lunch, Kurt had physics, and when he walked in he was greeted by his teacher Mrs. Garcia with "Ah, nice of you to be back, Mr. Hummel. Since you weren't here yesterday, when we picked our partners for the egg-drop project, you'll have to be with our new student, Mr. Anderson." She pointed to the new kid from two days before who stood in the back, shrugging with a small smile.

His stomach dropped about a thousand stories. "I-I can't." He mumbled quietly.

"Excuse me?" The teacher replied and the whole class ooohed. "Is there some sort of handicap that disables you to do the assignment?" He remarked.

Kurt bit his lip and lightly shook his head. "I can do the assignment," he explained. "I just... Can't do it... With him..."

"And why not?" Mrs. Garcia raised an eyebrow, and Blaine sunk a little back in his chair.

"I um... It's kind of personal?" He tried, the statement coming out more like a question.

"Awe, the faggot doesn't want to get a boner while working with the new kid." Jeered Karofsky.

The teacher glared at him. "Out, now." She ordered. "I will not have sexual innuendos nor derogatory names directed at anyone's race, gender, sex, or sexual orientation in my classroom, David. Meet me in the principals office later."

He rolled his eyes and trudged outside.

"Now, Kurt," she started. "Unless you'd like to join David outside, I suggest you leave whatever "personal" issues you have with Blaine out of your assignment. I need you to work together, whether or not you get along wont affect your grade unless it affects your work."

Kurt nodded sadly and sat down. "Yes, Mrs. Garcia." He mumbled.

It was going to be a long week.

* * *

When the bell rang, Kurt bolted for the door fast as he could, but before he could get away, Blaine caught up with him. "Hey, Kurt!" He called cheerily. Kurt groaned which was more of a whimper really and slowly turned around and faced him. Blaine walked up to him and slung his backpack over his shoulder. "I was wondering if we could like go to your house to work on this project or something, and maybe like, hang out, or whatever." He shuffled his feet nervously.

"Oh," Kurt started. "I'd love to, I really would, but I already promised I would go to the movies with Rachel and Finn later to go see that Green Hornet, or whatever movie later," he lied. Anyone who knew Kurt even remotely knew that the only super hero movies he'd ever go see we're Marvel ones, other than that, he wasn't much of a fan.

Blaine looked down at his feet. "You know, if you don't want to be with me, you can just say so. I can take a hint."

"What, no!" Kurt said. "I'm just..." He looked down, realizing there was not really a way out of this. "You just remind me of someone and, I was wrong to judge you off that, and I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Blaine added, then quietly he added. "You remind me of someone, too."

Kurt wasn't sure if he'd heard that last sentence right, but shook it off anyways. "Look," he began. "We can go to my place later, and work on the project there, alright?" He smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry for ignoring you and being rude earlier."

"It's cool," Blaine replied, waving a dismissive hand. He checked his watch. "Well, I have to go now, English Lit calls," he shrugged and chuckled a bit. Kurt smiled and waved him goodbye. As he turned away, he heard the other boy say a hauntingly familiar phrase. "Au reviour, Kurt." Before sauntering off to his next class.

Kurt stood there, frozen in a mixture of shock and disbelief, when suddenly Santana came up from behind him. "You ok, Kurt?" She asked, concern splayed out on her face. "You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"I–I think I just did..."

* * *

"So, to recap," Kurt started. "You don't think I'm insane."

Santana laughed. "I never said that, Kurt. I mean, you did have a crush on Finn."

He smiled at the humorous memories. "Don't remind me." His face sobered. "But really?" He questioned. "I just told you that I think the new kid is my Blaine—the one from eight years ago—and you haven't turned me in to a psychiatrist yet?"

She shrugged. "It could've been a conspiracy with the government, you know. Like maybe his parents were CIA agents."

Kurt shook his head. "No, I watched him die, San. I was there, and... He was definitely gone."

"Miracles, happen, Kurt. Believe it or not, but I do."

He sighed and smiled sadly. "Not to me."

"Well," she started. "The universe probably decided that he deserved a second chance. Maybe that you did, too."

Kurt contemplated the idea for a second, but a seed of doubt started blooming. "If it really is him, then why doesn't he remember me?"

She shrugged. "Maybe it's supposed to be a clean slate, or you gotta jog his memory, or he does, and he just can't tell you."

"We both belong in asylums," Kurt said, chuckling. He reached over and grabbed her hand. "Thanks for believing me."

She waved her hand dismissively. "The only explanation to a whole bunch of crazy is more crazy."

* * *

"I've always wanted to try an experiment like this one," Blaine announced. The two boys were in Kurt's room, drawing out blueprints to their egg drop project. "It seems like fun. I hear that they use the same basic technologies in like car crash scenarios for air bags, seat belts and stuff."

If only they'd been working eight years ago, Kurt thought to himself as he drew a straight line diagonal across a rectangle. They decided to wrap the egg in bubble wrap, and using some flexible material, would hold the egg in the middle of the box so it wouldn't be bouncing around. "That sounds interesting," Kurt said. He huffed. "I just realized that I don't really know you," he pointed out, turning to face the other boy. Or I might just know you too well. "Where you from?"

He didn't miss the way Blaine's face faltered, even if only for a split second. "Um... California."

"MmmHmm," Kurt hummed. "And you speak French, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

At that, Blaine laughed. "I can't speak a foreign language to save my life." He answered.

Kurt smirked, so far so good, he thought, and decided that he was going to get Blaine to admit who he really was. "But you said goodbye to me earlier," he pointed out.

Blaine froze, not having an explanation. "I-uhm." He stuttered and swallowed nervously. "Must be a force of habit, I only know hello and goodbye." He gave a crooked little smile.

"Oh, ok," Kurt went along with it. "And you're from Colorado, right?"

Blaine nodded. "Right."

Gotcha. "You said Cali, earlier, though."

His eyes widened. "Oh, um, right I'm actually from like, all over the place." He covered up.

"What about siblings?" He pried.

Blaine smiled. "I do have a brother, but I haven't seen him in years." His face fell.

"I used to have friend, with a brother named Cooper."

"Funny coincidence, its a pretty common name, I guess." Blaine shrugged. Kurt smirked because Blaine never even mentioned the name Cooper.

"You have the same name as one of my old friends, you know." Blaine raised an eyebrow. "Last name included... It's kind of uncanny."

"Blaine Anderson is a pretty common name," he replied, shrugging.

"Call me crazy, but you look a lot like him, too." Kurt pushed.

Blaine laughed nervously. "Well, he was young when he died, he could look like anything."

"I never said he died..." And Blaine tensed up. Kurt felt horrible for what he was about to ask next, but he just needed to know for sure. "Have you ever been in an accident?"

And that was when Blaine stood up and loudly said. "What's with the interrogation?" Throwing his arms out a bit.

Immediately, Kurt regretted it. What was he doing asking invasive questions to someone he'd just met? No matter who he thought they could be, as if this person really was his Blaine. He looked down. "I'm sorry, that-that was really rude of me—"

Blaine cut him off. "No, no, it's alright, I shouldn't have snapped, I just... It's a bit of a sore spot." He said quietly.

"Me too," Kurt whispered. He looked up at him. "When I was little, I was in an accident and I lost someone really important to me, right after my mom lost her battle to cancer, and I guess I was just desperately trying to hold on to nothing..."

"I'm so sorry," Blaine mumbled, taking a seat and placing a consoling hand in his shoulder.

Despite everything, Kurt would have sworn on his life that the sympathetic eyes pitying him were his best friends. But he shook it off. Just stop it, he told himself. "Just forget about it, lets just move past this and keep working."

Blaine nodded and gave him a small one sided smile. "Um, do you have another marker or something? I have an idea," he asked.

Kurt nodded. "Right there on my dresser," he nodded towards the direction of the dresser.

Blaine swiveled around to look for it, and the first thing he came across was a picture in a blue frame of Kurt and a boy he knew all too well wearing party hats, arms around one another's shoulders and smiling wide in what seemed like a pizza parlor. He stared at the picture, a shadow of a smile tugging at his lips.

Kurt turned to see what Blaine had found. "Oh," he started, smiling fondly. "That's my friend, the one I mentioned, at his seventh birthday party—"

"The one with the really creepy clown," they said together.

Kurt's head snapped up. "How did you know that?" He asked, his hope rising. Blaine's mouth hung open, searching for an answer. "You wouldn't know that unless you were there!" He pointed out, eyes starting to water because holy fuck what if.

"I... I-" Blaine stuttered.

"Blaine," Kurt started quietly. "Is it you?"

"I don't know what you mean," Blaine lied.

"Don't you?" Kurt cocked his head to the right jut slightly. "Because if its not you, then whatever, you can have a different partner and I'm just a lunatic... But if it is and if you ever, ever cared about me, you will tell me the truth. So I'm gonna ask you one last time," he choked out, tears finally rolling down his cheeks. "Is it you?"

Blaine's face crumpled and he nodded slowly. "It's me, Kurt. It's really me."

Kurt gasped just a little bit and in a split second he was on top of Blaine, wrapping him in a bone crushing hug, both of them sobbing hysterically. Blaine buried his face in Kurt's shoulder while he stroked his back comfortingly. Kurt pulled back as shook his head. "But how?"

Blaine just shrugged, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I don't know, I just woke up in a house and there was paperwork for registration for school so I just... went, I guess."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Kurt asked.

Blaine laughed bitterly. "What was I supposed to say?" He raised an eyebrow. "Hi, Kurt! Remember me? I'm your best friend who died like eight years ago, wanna go bowling? Catch up for old time sakes?"

Kurt laughed. "Uh, well it sounds a lot better than me thinking I was insane for a few days."

"I'm sorry," he said. "But, I mean, I didn't know if this was even real, if you'd forgotten me like everyone else or..." He shook his head.

"I could never forget you." Kurt said softly. Blaine smiled and Kurt giggled a little bit. "That actually sounds like a good idea." He said.

"What?"

"Bowling." Kurt laughed.

"But Kurt!" Blaine started, banter in his voice. "We have work to do!"

"Screw the work!" Kurt yelled happily. "I have my best friend back and fuck it! We're going bowling!"

* * *

A/N: AHGH FINALLY CHAPTER TWO AWAY WITH YOU I AM DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER YAY omfg in sorry I just woke up yeah what

Review?


	4. Chapter 3

{3} Second Chances

A/N: my babies are going bowling! Blaine's aliveeeee shits about Togo down :D

* * *

"So..." Blaine started as Kurt picked up a lime green bowling ball and held it up, his tongue stoking out just a little bit in concentration in such a way that Blaine would be lying if he said it wasn't absolutely adorable. "You're best friend comes back to life, and your first instinct is to go bowling?" Kurt swung the ball and let it roll down the lane, mocking down a good 7 pins. "Not that I'm not having fun but..."

He spun around and shrugged. "It's been eight years. And I know how quickly life can be cut short by unexpected events..." He reached for his hand and looked down. "I just don't wanna waste any time I get with you." He said softly.

Blaine smiled and lifted Kurt's head up with his hand. "You're not gonna lose me again. I can promise you that."

You don't know that, thought Kurt. But instead he said, "If you don't mind me asking... What-what was it like?" He asked timidly.

"Being dead you mean?" Blaine looked down at his feet and shrugged. "I don't actually remember dying, just up until when I got knocked out in the crash, and... This is gonna sound insane but... I know I was somewhere, with people... Maybe..." He looked up at Kurt. "Heaven..? Or someplace like that. I know I was there I just... Can't remember any of it, it's kind of like I was asleep the whole time." Kurt tried shrugging unfazed since he decided he didn't believe in god a long time ago, but he couldn't help but feel a little comforted at the thought of the possibility that his mom was still somewhere, watching over him.

"I also couldn't help but notice," Kurt started up again. "You don't exactly look the same as you did when you were nine... And you don't act too much like a kid, either... Well, a little but you've always been immature," Kurt smirked.

Blaine laughed sarcastically. "Ha ha, you're hilarious." And yet again gave another shrug. "I don't think I like, stole anyone's body, I mean, this feels like me. And I don't have any questions about who I am. What I like, what I don't, how I act... It's like, wherever I was, I was growing up there instead of just ceasing to exist, you know?"

Kurt nodded. "Yeah, I think I get you." He waited a while to ask his next question, knowing it was going to be a tough one to answer. "Do you think the same thing happened to your parents?"

Blaine bit his lip and looked down, shaking his head. "The first day I asked around, people I thought I used to know. They all said the same thing. The Anderson's moved away about 8 years ago... Nobody remembers the crash, or anything."

"Then why did I?" Kurt asked. "I mean, if not even my dad remembered..." He shook his head, then it shot up. His eyes widened as he realized someone else was missing from this picture. "Oh, my god! We need to call Cooper!"

Kurt got up, probably to find a quiet place to call Blaine's brother, but Blaine grabbed his wrist and looked up at him with worried eyes. "What if he doesn't remember, either?" He asked, terrified.

Kurt placed a reassuring hand in his friends shoulder. "Then, we'll make him."

* * *

"I'm so nervous," Blaine announced as the ringer started up on the other end of the line. They were at Kurt's house, in his room waiting to call Cooper and trying to figure out what to say. In the end, they'd decided that they actually needed to get him here before they went off talking about the dead rising and all.

"Just let me do the talking, Blaine, because right now you either don't exist to him, or you're dead."

"That's comforting," Blaine mumbled as he rolled his eyes, right when the click of someone answering the phone could be heard.

"Hello? Kurt, is everything alright?" Cooper asked.

"Uhm," Kurt started. "Do you remember... That thing that happened—"

"Woah, Kurt, like I said, I was super drunk, I didn't mean to kiss you, I thought—"

"Not that!" Yelled Kurt, cheeks burning red. Blaine gaped at him and mouthed. "You kissed my brother!?"

"It was an accident!" He whispered sharply back. "And he kissed me! Later!"

"Kurt?"

"Huh? Oh, no! Not that, I meant... Eight years ago..." He finally said, and things got a lot quieter on the other end.

It was silent on Cooper's behalf for a few tense and suspense filled moments until he eventually sighed and said quietly. "How could I forget?" Blaine let out a sigh of relief and nearly burst out into tears of joy. His brother remembered him. "Why, what's up? Are you having... Those thoughts again?"

"What? No!" Cried Kurt. "I just..." He sighed. "It's urgent and something I need you to actually see."

"You can't tell me over the phone?" He asked.

Kurt groaned. "No... It's kind of... Big. Just, please, Coop? For me?"

The older man sighed. "Alright, I've got an audition tomorrow night, so the earliest I can be there is Friday afternoon. Can you hold on till then?"

"Yeah," Kurt breathed. "Definitely. Bye, Coop, and thanks."

"No problem, Kiddo. See you Friday." And with that the other line went dead.

Blaine smiled. "Cooper really became an actor?" He asked.

Kurt nodded. "Right now he's just in some credit report commercials, but I hear he's slowly making his way up. He did stay here for a while, you know?" Kurt added. "After the accident. He stayed for about a year then he told me he couldn't take it and moved to LA to chase his dreams."

Blaine laughed a little. "Well, I'm glad he did." He raised an eyebrow. "So are you gonna fill me in about—"

Kurt groaned and rolled his eyes. "Oh my god!" He moaned childishly. He sighed. "Your brother came to visit every so often, and I had my permit and he needed a designated driver for a party and I wasn't going to let him drive drunk. There was this girl he was flirting with at the party who.. She had hair that was short and my color, and our skin tone was very similar as well as our height... and Cooper was very drunk and came up behind me and kissed me, alright?" Blaine looked like he was about to die laughing. "Then I pushed him away because ew its Cooper and then he realized what happened and we kind of just had a silent agreement to go home and never speak of it again..."

"God," Blaine laughed. "He's always been such an idiot. I'm kind of afraid to ask what he meant by "those thoughts"." He chuckled.

Kurt got quiet and looked down. "That's... That's a different story." He said quietly, and Blaine got the feeling that this was a more serious type of story. "I... I called up Cooper one day, crying, because I felt shitty and I said it felt like there was nothing left to live for... My mom was gone, you were, too. I was getting beat up almost every day. Hell, I had a therapist. The only thing that kept me grounded was my dad but... I just felt really, really alone." He looked at Blaine with ashamed eyes. "I was thinking about killing myself," he admitted. "And Coop talked me out of it. Three times," he added. "The most recent when my dad had a heart attack and went into a coma for a week. The only ones who know are him and Santana..."

Blaine didn't have anything to say, so he just pulled Kurt in and gave him the biggest hug he'd ever given anyone.

Kurt wrapped his arms around him and buried his face into Blaine's chest, all the while thinking how great it was to do this with someone he never thought he'd get a chance to see again.

* * *

The next day, Santana walked out onto the courtyard after school and was surprised to see her favorite gay sitting with Blaine Anderson. She strode up to them and smiled slyly. "Well, well," she practically purred. "Kurt, who's your friend?" She asked.

He raised his eyebrows and looked at Blaine, silently asking if he could confirm what she thought earlier. He smiled and said, "Why not?" While shrugging.

"Santana," Kurt started. "This is Blaine..." She rolled her eyes. Well, duh. Then he continued. "The Blaine from eight years ago."

Her face fell into a display of confusion. "Wait, what?"

Blaine looked up at her and shrugged. "That's me," he confirmed.

She quickly sat down and kept her voice low. "No fucking way," she said in disbelief. She narrowed his eyes. "So you're not like, playing him or some shit like that because if you are—"

Kurt cut her off. "Santana, he knows things about me that only he would know. It's him, trust me."

She stared down at the ground, eyes wide as a bush baby's. "Holy fuck," she muttered, running her hands over her hair.

"Oddly enough," Blaine started. "Kurt mentioned that you were the only one who remembered anything about me..."

"Yeah, that is kind of weird," she admitted. "But we can't just keep talking about this out here in the open," she whispered. "Who knows who might be listening?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Paranoid?"

She scoffed at him. "Look, let's just go right outside the courtyard where there's nobody there," she offered. "Cosas buenas llevan un precio muy caro! Good things come at a price! And I don't know, but we need to keep this on the DL."

Kurt rolled his eyes while Blaine just shrugged and obediently gathered his belongings and followed Santana to the secluded cloister.

"Ok, I have one question," she started up. "What the actual fuck?"

Blaine laughed and Kurt shook his head. "I don't know, San. It's not like an answer's just gonna come falling out of the sky, you know?" Just as he spoke, her eyes grew wide as she stared at something in the sky behind him. "What?" He asked.

"Holy crap," she mumbled. "Kurt, I think someone's falling out of an airplane!"

"What!" He spun around and saw a figure that looked like a teenage girl plummet towards them, hitting the wall right next to Santana who screamed bloody murder.

The other two were rushing towards her to check if she was hurt or injured (though she seemed unscathed), when she suddenly popped up and announced, "Man, the landings are always rough." The three teens stared at her in utter awe as she turned to Blaine, her red pulled back hair flipping across to her other shoulder. "Hi, Blaine," she smiled.

He took a step back and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Uh, do I know you?" He asked.

She twisted her smile so that it was just a bit one sided. "Well," she hummed. "You did..."

"What?" Blaine cried.

Santana threw her hands up and yelled, "Holy fucking shit!"

"Everybody calm the fuck down!" Kurt yelled. Everyone instantly silenced, and Kurt protectively placed himself between Blaine and the stranger. "Who—what are you?" He raised an eyebrow. Anything that could literally fall from the sky and survive after hitting a brick wall probably wasn't human.

She straightened up. "My name is Castiel and I'm an angel of The Lord." Santana suddenly squealed just a little bit, and the girl laughed. "Nah, I'm screwing with you... Supernatural fans, I take it?" Santana nodded vigorously. "My name is Daniella, and while I'm not technically an angel, I've come with some important information for Blaine. And we haven't got much time."

He stepped out from behind Kurt. "You said you knew me..?" He cautioned.

She smiled sadly. "Yeah, up in heaven. You were sort of my mentor."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "But you look a lot older than he did when he..."

She raised her eyebrows. "You don't age in heaven, only down here... I died more recently, and he had been there longer." She sighed at their pitiful looks. "We'll reminisce later—hopefully much later—but right now, you need to know why you came back."

"Ok," Blaine said. "Why did I come back."

Daniella wasted no time explaining. "In Heaven, every millennia or so, a few people who meet certain criteria are chosen as candidates to come back, and through voting, it usually narrows down to about the top ten and from there more voting and shit, and boom you've got a winner." She paused and the other three looked at her expectantly. "But there's a catch," she started. Slowing down, she added, "the one who comes back has to find his/her soulmate and consummate the relationship with a kiss within the allotted time or else they quote unquote "go back the way they came"."

"That sounds like a fucked up version of the Hunger Games," Santana mumbled.

"What's that?" Blaine asked.

"Ok, seriously, do you live under a rock?" She asked, rolling her eyes.

Blaine gave her a sideways glare and brushed it off. He sighed. "But um..." He started nervously. "Does Heaven," he pointed upward. "Know that I'm... Um... My soulmate is probably—"

"Male?" She cut him off with a raised eyebrow and rolled her eyes, as Santana and Kurt gave him surprised glances. "Of course they know, you told every one a long time ago."

He chuckled nervously. "Well, I guess that's a relief..."

"You're gay?" Kurt asked. "Why didn't you tell me."

Blaine looked down at the ground. "I didn't know how you would feel about it, and I had just gotten back—"

Santana laughed really loudly. "Oh my god, Anderson," she howled. "You're so oblivious, everyone here is as queer as a three dollar bill."

Blaine turned to Kurt. "Really?" He asked.

The other boy chuckled. "I thought you knew. I mean, everyone else does and I thought it was just common knowledge."

"Anyways–" the girl continued. "It turns out, you've got until next Sunday at 8:00 which is sunset."

Kurt's eyes bugged out of his head. "Sunday!?" He cried. "That's hardly enough time!"

She sighed. "I know, but the rules are malleable... Ish... Like, say his soulmate was halfway across the country, they would have given him much more time," she explained.

Santana looked up. "So his soulmate is in close proximity to us?" She asked, and Daniella nodded.

"Exactly."

"Well," Blaine started. "Where can I find my soulmate, then?" He asked her.

She pursed her lips and shook her head sadly. "I don't know. I don't know who he is, where he is, or anything about him... And if I did, I couldn't tell you, or else you'd go immediately back."

Kurt shook his head. "Why would they do that? Just give him his life back and then—" he cut himself off, eyes watering at the thought that he could still lose Blaine, yet again.

Blaine placed a comforting hand in his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I said I wasn't leaving you again, and I intend to keep that promise."

Santana suddenly raised an eyebrow. "Just curious, who were the other quote unquote candidates?" She asked.

Daniella sighed and rolled her eyes a bit. "Sandy, who was 60, but her soulmate died and joined her. They're super cute. Amanda, Josh, Henry and..." She hesitated. "Like I said, people who met certain criterion...

"Like—" Blaine pried when she stopped.

She groaned, thinking how annoying it was to be bothered with such tedious details. Sighing dramatically, she continued, counting the rules on her fingers. "Like, your soulmate has to be living, can't be in a relationship ie they can't have a boyfriend/girlfriend, fiancé or wife/husband. You can't have been in a relationship with your soulmate before you died—personally I think that's a dumb one, but Michael says it denies the idea of second chances or whatever."

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. "Why did everyone forget about Blaine?" He asked.

She shrugged. "Well, obviously, we can't have people calling 9-11 about the dead rising and whatnot, so we took care of that."

"Wait, then why do I remember him?" He asked.

She closed her eyes like she was trying to remember something. "Oh, there was a clause in there somewhere about profound bonds, and people directly involved..."

"That still doesn't explain me," Santana butted in.

Daniella looked up at the sky. "I did not sign up for this many questions," she complained. "Santana was at the car scene, Kurt and her are best friends now, so..." She shrugged. "I don't make the rules, just read 'em."

"What does it all mean, though?" The shortest boy sighed.

Daniella pursed her lips. "It means you are one lucky bastard who got another chance, and if I were as lucky as you, I wouldn't waste it." And with that she ran off and turned the corner, disappearing into thin air.

* * *

A/N: shitty second half of chapter is shitty :)

To recap: Blaine's basically got until next Sunday (bout ten days) to find his soulmate (OH JEEZ I WONDER WHO THAT COULD BE) and kiss him or else he dies again.

Next: The boys go soulmate hunting at a familiar place and Cooper gets a big surprise!


End file.
